


The Beauty Incomplete

by Sforzie



Series: The Beauty [1]
Category: Final Fantasy IX, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Rome, Asexual Character, Castrati, Gen, Roman Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 23:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17396183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sforzie/pseuds/Sforzie
Summary: A beautiful young slave meets a peculiar older man in ancient Rome. Will his life ever be the same?





	The Beauty Incomplete

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of historical semi-accuracy, I have converted Ardyn's name to "Lucius Caelius Ardyn" for this story. Thanks for making that pretty easy, Squeenix.

The Beauty Incomplete  
By: Sforzie

May, 73 AD

He sat on a small bench in the atrium, next to the impluvium pool. He was idly aware of his reflection in the calm water, but paid it only the most minor of attention. Now was not the time to be primping, he knew. Now was the time for working, and even though he knew full well that to an outsider he might look as though he were just lounging about in the afternoon heat, he really was quite hard at work. Looking casual and bored in the heat was a challenge.

He picked idly at the hem of his silken tunic, eyes half closed, ears focused on the world around him. The sounds of the city filtered down through the atrium’s view of the pale, cloudless blue sky. The voices of the dinner guests were still bubbling out from the triclinium. They droned on, a bunch of men reclining on their dinner couches and boast and talking about war and politics and women. He himself had already done his rounds through the triclinium, dancing and singing a bit, looking lovely and tantalizing. Most of the dinner guests had been from the Senate. Friends of the General. Friends of his owner.

Even now, he was certain that if he bothered to listen, he could hear his flesh being offered up for the night. It was nothing new, not now. Distasteful, certainly, but this was his place in life and he had gotten used to it. There were certainly worse things that could have been expected of him. 

He wanted dinner to end. He wanted it to end, so that he could get on with his business, and be released back to his quarters so that he could get something to eat before bed. He hadn’t eaten all day, and having to mince around through lunch and dinner parties on an empty stomach was torture in its most basic of forms. Back home, back in Persia, he never went hungry. He never had to satisfy the hungers of strange men back then. All that had been expected of him was to be beautiful and entertaining, and to watch the women.

Life here in Rome had not turned out to be as pleasant as he had anticipated.

Now he could hear it--someone offering a toast at the end of the overly drawn out meal. A toast to the Emperor, whomever that was these days. He supposed it was still Vespasian, but in truth that mattered little to him. Through the corridor leading to the atrium, he could see the General’s dinner guests filtering out of the dining hall. Middle aged and older men in striped tunics and togas, all stopping to have a word with the General before heading on their way out into the city. The house grew quieter as the men and their servants departed into the early evening.

He sat, looking lovely and waiting and ready for attention. He sat and waited, but the guests left and no one came. A touch disappointed, but in equal parts famished and relieved, he got up from the bench when the coast seemed clear, and made his way around the atrium to the door that led to his tiny little private chamber. Calling it a bedroom was a bit of a stretch. It really was little more than a small room to store his person at the end of the day, safely stowed away from the foulness of the other slaves. He was beautiful and expensive and thus kept in his own little space. He was not the only one like this, no, but the rest of them were women and he wasn’t responsible for watching them as he had been in years long since passed.

He opened the little wooden door and stepped inside. His room was stuffy with the heat of the day, and he left the door open to allow the stagnant air out while he changed his attire. His sandals were removed first, and then he began the lengthy process of removing all of his jewelry. He was down to the last of it--a golden bangle in the form of a snake that looped around his right arm--when he realized that he was being watched.

He closed the lid to his storage chest and looked up. There was a figure lingering in his open doorway, tall and looming in the shadows.

“Ah,” a voice came from the figure. “This is the correct room after all.”

He hurriedly got to his feet and smoothed a hand down the front of his tunic. “My apologies, sir. I wasn’t aware that I would have a guest this evening.”

For a long moment the figure in the door did not move. It was still, like one of the painted statues in the temples. Then, the door creaked as it was opened further to admit the guest.

“Your owner, the General, yes? He said you would be more than happy to entertain me for as long as I required.” The man shifted forward, and the shadows danced around him until the afternoon sun caught the line of the man’s profile.

“He is often inclined to do that, yes.” He lit the wall lamp and looked up at the new arrival.

It was one of the men who had dined with the General at dinner. The youngest of the bunch, probably not quite yet thirty, but still wearing the wide dark crimson stripes of a senator on his tunic. He vaguely remembered the man--he had dark pink hair and a loud, lilting voice.

“Might I come in?”

He moved away from the door. “That is not for me to say, sir.”

The pink haired senator gestured at himself as he took a step into the doorway. “My name is Lucius Caelius Ardyn. But for now, you may call me just Ardyn.” The man squinted down at him. “And what does your master call a creature such as yourself?”

“I am called Kuja,” he said. “Just Kuja.”

“A lovely name for a lovely creature,” Ardyn said. He stepped into the room and dropped down onto the cushion of the bed with a soft grunt. He beckoned to the other man. “Come, sit with me.”

Kuja hesitated. “Sit, sir?”

“Unless you would prefer to stand for the remainder of the time I arranged to have your company.”

“Most men do not arrange with my master to just... sit with me.”

“Oh?” Ardyn tipped his head to the side, squinting again, the right corner of his mouth quirking up slightly. “And, what do they normally pay for?”

“Sometimes they like me to dance or sing, as I did at dinner. But most often they are only interested in things of an... intimate matter.”

“I see.” Ardyn’s head tipped back to its resting position. “I’m not interested in that sort of thing.”

“Oh.” Kuja thought. “Perhaps I could have a woman sent for, then?”

“No.”

He remained standing, uncertain of what to do. His experience and training hadn’t really covered what was expected of him if a man wasn’t interested in what he usually had to offer.

“Sit,” Ardyn said again.

Kuja gave another quick half bow. “As you wish.”

He moved to sit at the opposite end of the bed, but the senator’s big hands reached out and grabbed him by the hips. Kuja barely managed to suppress a surprised yelp as he was hauled into the lap of the senator.

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in that,” he managed, disliking the breathy hiss in his voice.

“I’m not,” Ardyn said. “However, I have your company, so I might as well get something out of it.” He gestured at the door. “Besides, if someone were to walk in, I wouldn’t want to give them the wrong impression.”

“The impression of what, sir?”

“That we were just talking,” he said. There was something decidedly coy in the older man’s tone, Kuja thought.

Up close now, Kuja had a better chance to inspect the senator. His appearance was unkempt, in a strangely practiced way. The man’s dark pink hair was wavy and tousled and sloppily pulled back into a high ponytail by a slip of linen. His chin was covered in a layer of stubble. There were bags under the man’s eyes, and though Kuja could remember his lively and loud conversation with his master at the dinner table, now he seemed very quiet and almost tired. His eyes, though, Kuja mused, were interesting. He had never seen eyes such a shade before, a pale yellow, like sunlight glinting off a sheet of gold. They were beautiful. The young man was surprised. He had not expected to harbor such a thought about another person. Certainly not some strange senator of Rome.

He cleared his throat. “And are we just talking, sir?”

Ardyn fingers picked lightly at the pale silk that was bunching its way along Kuja’s thighs. “Yes.” He plucked at the thin fabric again. “You needn’t act so coy. I saw how you were looking at me during the meal.”

Kuja looked at the man’s fingers on his thigh. Despite his otherwise unkempt appearance, his nails were trimmed and clean. “And how was I looking at you, sir?”

“Like you wanted to tell me something.” The hand lifted, the long fingers grasped at his chin, and his head was tilted back enough to look at the pink haired man. “Look at me when I am speaking to you, alright?”

Kuja managed a minute nod in the senator’s grasp. The fingers pulled away, and moved to touch the hair at the top of his head. 

“Good. Always look at me when I am speaking to you. It might be important.”

Kuja nodded again. He wasn’t sure what to say. None of the other men had been like this before. He hoped that his unease and mild confusion wasn’t evident on his face. No, he thought, he had to focus.

“You are from Rome, then, sir?”

“Ardyn. And, yes, more or less. The empire, at least. From an area called Campania, in a little town called Pompeii. When I am not here, I make my home in Pompeii.”

Kuja darted his eyes down from the other man’s face and looked down at his tunic. “You’re a senator, yes?”

“That’s right. Just this spring. Moving up in the world. Maybe I’ll be Emperor some day.” He chuckled and touched Kuja’s chin. “And, what is it that you do here, aside from sitting about being beautiful and mysterious?”

He considered his answer. “Is being beautiful and mysterious not enough for you, good sir?”

The senator chuckled again. “I suppose it could be, were I just another mindless man of politics.”

Kuja stared into his eyes, pale and gold in the flickering lamplight. “And does a newly minted senator such as yourself already think himself so greater than his elders?” He felt a slight squeeze on his chin.

“That is a presumptuous question for a slave to be asking.”

“My apologies, sir. I did not mean to overstep.”

Ardyn released his grip on his chin. Kuja was surprised at the lightness of the rebuke. He had been rather severely punished for far less sass by other men. Kuja watched the senator, curious, wondering what he was doing here, what he was going to do. Ardyn was quiet, eyes half closed, golden gaze fixated not on the man in his lap but the unpainted wall behind him. Kuja considered his words with greater care.

“Tell me, my lord, but what brought you to my Master’s home this afternoon?” He pulled his lips into a thin smile. “Aside from a free meal, of course.”

“And what makes you think that a free meal is not motivation enough?”

Kuja shifted his weight slightly and leaned in closer to the senator. “Because, you do not strike me as the sort of man who likes to waste a lovely afternoon in the company of old men.”

“You would be surprised,” Ardyn murmured. “What sort of man do I strike you as?”

“The sort of man who comes to the room of a person who is usually treated like a meager brothel slave and just asks them to sit and speak for a bit.”

“That would be an accurate assessment,” the senator said. “I do enjoy talking. It’s sort of part of my business.”

“Is that why you were here today, then? Just to talk?”

He tipped his head to the side. “To talk. And to listen.”

Kuja nodded slowly. He understood. The General’s acquaintances were of the sort that liked to talk. They liked to hear themselves talk. It made them feel important.

“I listen, too,” Kuja said. He did his best to keep his gaze upon the other man’s face. “Men talk, and they don’t think I listen. They think me to be nothing more than an ornament, or something to please them.” He lowered his gaze to his lap and moved a hand to smooth the silk there. “I listen.”

“You must hear all sorts of interesting things,” Ardyn said. “Useful things.”

“I suppose that might be true.” Kuja shifted on the man’s thighs and turned his head to look at the closed door.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Kuja swallowed. “I was just thinking.”

“Oh? And what sorts of thoughts might be fluttering around in that pretty silver head of yours?”

“Of... of how I ended up here, in Rome.”

“Hm. You aren’t from here, I can tell that much. Your accent gives that much away, though your Latin is quite practiced. Somewhere in Persia, I would guess?”

Kuja smiled. He reached and brushed a few fine stray pink hairs back from the senator’s face. “Yes, that’s right. A little palace for a little prince of little consequence. I was kept mostly to keep an eye on the harem. And to keep them entertained.”

“And how did you end up here?”

He traced his fingers down the side of Ardyn’s face. “It was about four years ago. The General was visiting the area with some other men, mostly merchants. I don’t know the exact details about it, to be quite honest. But, from what I do know, his wife had died the winter before. His children were all grown and gone. He was lonely at home. So, he made various deals to acquire some slaves that struck his fancy. And I was one of them.”

“Do you like it here in Rome?”

“I don’t know.” Kuja shrugged. “I don’t get out of the house very often. I have not really seen much of Rome, to know her.”

“A pity,” Ardyn said. “The empire is vast and lovely. You should really try to see some more of it sometime.”

He did his best not to frown at the suggestion. He was just a slave, after all. “Perhaps.” Kuja got to his feet and went to the door. “It’s getting late, Senator. You should probably be on your way. I would doubt that a person of your high standing wants to be walking the city streets alone after dark.”

The faintest note of a sigh escaped from the pink haired man as he pushed himself up from the bed. “Yes, I would suppose that you’re right.” He smoothed his hands over his face, and then back over his hair. He tugged the strip of linen holding his hair in place free, letting his hair fall in a pink mess to his shoulders. “Kuja was your name, yes?”

He opened the door and glanced outside. No one was in the atrium. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Perhaps I shall call on you once more if I happen to find myself dining with the General again.”

He smiled. “I am not one to dictate what a senator can do, sir.”

“Indeed. Keep listening, Kuja.”

“Yes, sir. Good evening to you, sir.”

“And to you.”

Kuja watched the other man amble away through the atrium and out of sight. He was not yet certain what had just transpired, but he was certainly glad it had not taken a long time. He was, after all, still quite hungry.

 

In the week that followed, while performing his duties both mundane and profane, Kuja found his thoughts drifting back to the conversation he had had with the strange senator. What a peculiar man he was, to ask for nothing more than the company of a person such as Kuja. The young man did not know quite what to make of it. He still did not know what to make of it after the passage of a week.

It was then, a week later on a quiet, rainy evening, that Kuja had his second encounter with the senator. He was seated on his usual bench in the atrium, the majority of his body tucked out of the light spray of the rain, but his bare feet sticking out into the weather. He was bored and waiting for his chance at an evening meal. He hadn’t been called to the triclinium tonight. Whatever business the General had going on was a somber, quiet affair. Kuja watched the steady flow of slaves coming and going to the kitchen and back to the dining room, but said nothing to them. He didn’t usually associate with the other slaves, and they made no efforts to speak to him.

A voice crowed out behind him. “My, but are you always to be found here, moping about like some moody young child?”

Kuja blinked and shifted on the bench to look over his shoulder. The pink haired senator was there, looking as carefully unkempt as ever. He smiled.

“I am only doing what is expected of me, sir,” he said. “I’m little more than a living statue for the gardens.”

“And a lovely one at that.” Ardyn scratched at the stubble on his left cheek. “You must get bored.”

“It gives me time to think.”

The senator chuckled. “I should be quite interested to know what a little statue like yourself thinks about.”

Kuja lowered his gaze to the tiled floor. “Nothing that would be of interest to an esteemed man as yourself.”

Another chuckle escaped the other man, and Kuja looked back to his face. His cheeks, under their dark pink stubble, were flushed red. “For such a quiet meal, I didn’t think you would be enjoying dinner so much.”

“It’s quite a bore,” Ardyn said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s all serious talk tonight, bad for the digestion. I’ve had to medicate it with a bit more wine than usual.” He looked at his hand for a moment. “I had to excuse myself to take a piss.”

“Ah, I see.”

Ardyn turned away from Kuja and the rainy atrium. “Which one is your room? I want to rest my head for a few minutes.”

Kuja blushed. “Sir? Shouldn’t you be returning to dinner?”

“Don’t feel like it.” He waved his hand again. “Which one?”

Kuja got to his feet. “This one over here, sir. But, if you want to rest, I could have one of the guest rooms opened for y--”

“No, this is fine.”

He just nodded obediently and opened the door to his little room. Ardyn made his way into the room, again seeming too large for the space, and flopped unceremoniously onto the slave’s bed. He was too tall for the bed, and his feet dangled off at the end. The senator grunted and draped an arm across his eyes.

Kuja lingered in the open doorway. “Is there anything else you needed, sir?”

“Stay. Talk to me. I don’t want to fall asleep.”

“If that is your wish, sir.”

“It is.” Ardyn was quiet for a moment. Then he said: “So, you’re a... _castrati_?”

Kuja looked down at his hands. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m sorry.” 

He blinked and glanced up. “What?”

“You probably didn’t get any say in the matter, did you.”

Kuja hesitated. He shook his head. “No, sir. I was just a young boy when it was done. I was born a slave, in the palace. They picked me because I was a beautiful young thing.”

“You are still quite attractive, Kuja.”

“My beauty is all I have.” Kuja swallowed back at the bitter taste the admission left in his mouth. “I’m just a beautiful thing, to be passed from one man to the next. But, what will happen to me when my beauty fades?”

“Does the thought of growing old frighten you?” There was a hint of amusement in the senator’s tone.

“It terrifies me,” Kuja said. “Without my beauty, I will be worthless.”

“Oh, come now, I am certain that you are exaggerating.” Ardyn flapped his draped hand in the air next to his head. “I’m sure there is more to you than just your face.”

“Do you, sir?”

“I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t think so.”

“Oh. Alright.” He looked at the senator, sprawled out carelessly on his bed. “Is that why you don’t want to touch me?”

“No.”

“You’re the first man who has come in here who didn’t just want to use me. My body.”

“I am not so base a man as the others,” the senator said. He moved his arm and rubbed his hand over his face. His pale eyes found Kuja’s in the dimly lit room. “Did you want me to be?”

Kuja stared back at him. “I don’t know.” This earned him another chuckle from the senator. “Do you have a wife, sir?”

“Hm? No. I’ve managed to avoid that mess. Left that business to my brothers.”

“You don’t want the pretty young man, and you don’t want a woman. What do you want, sir?”

“I don’t know,” Ardyn said, his tone glib. “What do you want, lovely little statue?”

Kuja considered the question. “Nothing that it is my place to have.”

Ardyn just gave a little grunt at this.

“If I might ask, sir, but how did you know I was a eunuch?”

“I’ve seen eunuchs before,” Ardyn said. “Those slender limbs, the smooth skin, the womanly hips. You look quite the part, though, you’re a bit shorter than most I’ve seen.”

“My mother was quite short.”

“And your father?”

Kuja shrugged. “Never knew the man.”

“A pity. I’d loan you my father, but you would probably find him a bit of a loud mouth.” Ardyn tilted his head. “I suppose that’s where I get it from.”

“You should have more respect for your father, sir.”

“Oh, I have plenty of respect for the man. He’s still a loud mouth.” The senator sat up with a little grunt. “This bed is not very comfortable.”

“I know. But, it’s what I am allowed.”

“You deserve better.”

“I deserve what I get, sir,” Kuja said, his tone kept carefully neutral. “That’s a slave’s lot in life.”

Ardyn stared up at him for a long moment. Then he held out his hands. “Come here.”

“Sir?”

“Stop playing so coy. Come here.”

Kuja wanted to tell the man that he wasn’t play coy, that there was something about the senator that disrupted his usual state of being, but instead he just moved into the room. He pushed the door nearly shut before stepping toward the senator’s hands. Ardyn, as before, grabbed him and hauled him into a position seated across his thighs. Kuja looked at the other man, unable to fathom what thoughts were swirling underneath that mess of pink hair.

“Are you happy here, Kuja? In the General’s household?” Ardyn’s right hand moved to touch the back of Kuja’s head. He felt the man’s fingers tugging at the pins that were keeping his hair up out of his face and in a carefully braided bun.

“S-sir?”

“It’s a simple question.”

“Yes, but not one to ask me. I could be miserable and it would not matter.” He swallowed as he heard the pins bounce on the hard floor and felt the senator’s fingers working to dismantle the braid. “So, why ask me?”

“Because I want to. I want to know.” Ardyn’s fingers curled, gripping at the back of Kuja’s head. He pulled their faces close. “I could give you a far more interesting life, Kuja. But I will not if you aren’t interested.”

Up close, Kuja could smell his breath--wine and honey and fish sauce. “I don’t understand why you would want to.”

“You are far too radiant a creature to be so modest,” Ardyn murmured. He leaned in and pressed his lips briefly against Kuja’s. “I do because I want to. I do not need any hidden reason.”

“And yet I still feel that there is one, sir.”

A smile split Ardyn’s face open wide. He laughed and pressed another kiss to Kuja’s lips. “That is no concern of yours.”

Kuja let out a soft sigh. “I am content enough here, sir, if not a touch bored. There is not much asked of me.” He lifted a hand and touched lightly at the stubble that graced the senator’s jaw. “Though, I was a quite expensive purchase. Are you sure you will be able to afford me?”

“I wouldn’t be a senator if I didn’t have enough money to afford a beautiful slave,” Ardyn said with a smirk.

“Would you pass me off to your dinner guests for their pleasure every evening?”

“Only if you wanted to be passed off,” he said.

“Then, I would voice no protest if you purchased me.”

Ardyn tipped his head forward, nuzzling at Kuja’s hand. “Good. I will speak with the General, when the time is appropriate.”

 

Kuja had no inkling of when the ‘appropriate’ time was. Two weeks passed from that rainy evening, and he saw nary a single pink hair of the senator for the entirety of that time. It made Kuja wonder if the man had simply been toying with him, twisting the slave’s feelings for his own amusement. It was possible. Men had done worse things to him than just play with his emotions.

But then, there he was again, attending a dinner party at the end of the first week of June. Kuja danced for the General’s dinner guests while they waited for the first course to be served. He saw Ardyn reclining on one of the couches in his red striped tunic, idly chatting with the man on the next couch. Afterwards, Kuja returned to his usual perch, waiting and wondering.

The evening dragged on, and the sun had already set by the time the dinner party concluded. The General’s guests were noisy and drunk as they left, collecting their servants and disappearing into the night. Last out was the pink haired senator. Kuja did his best to not look like his was eavesdropping on the conversation Ardyn was having with the General.

“I don’t know, Senator,” the General was saying. “He’s very lovely, you know. Been very popular with my friends.”

“And yourself?”

“Eh, I just prefer to look at him.”

“You know sir, beauty is fading thing. Especially amongst his kind.” Ardyn’s voice carried through the corridor. “And, besides, sir, I didn’t want to be the one to say it, but the others do think it’s, well, a touch tacky to be owning a eunuch for such purposes. Especially when you have your lovely female slaves about.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, it is indeed. It smacks of bad history. Emperor Nero has not been gone quite so long.”

“Well aware.” The General grunted softly. “And what would you do, with the boy in your household? You’re a senator. You have your own image to maintain.”

“I am most flattered by your concern,” Ardyn said. “However, trust that I have nothing unsavory in mind with the fellow. Far from it. You see, I recently lost a slave to sickness, and am in need of a replacement. He would do quite nicely in the kitchen, I should think.”

“I don’t know if the boy can cook.”

“No concern. Even the dullest of knives can still be sharpened.”

“I suppose so... he was quite expensive, though. The prince that I bought him from didn’t want to part with him. It’s his hair color, I think. Quite rare in Persia, or so I’ve been told.”

“He might have just been saying things like that to drive the price up.”

“I had considered that possibility as well. But, he is still nice to look at, and he dances nicely and sings like a lark. You can see why I would be reluctant to part with him.”

There was a pause, the sound of sandals scuffing on the floor. Then: “I’ll pay you thirty percent more than you originally paid for him.”

“Gracious. All that for a kitchen slave?”

“If you wait longer to sell him, you won’t get that much.”

“I know, I know...” The General’s voice trailed off. There was the sound of what seemed to be under the breath counting. “Alright. You have yourself a deal, Senator.”

“Excellent. I’ll come back in the morning, and we’ll have everything arranged.” Ardyn chuckled. “Pleasure doing business with you, General.”

“The same to you, Senator Caelius.”

 

Kuja spent the night awake in bed, scarcely able to sleep, awake and wondering what repercussions he might face due to the sale. Would the General come to visit him tonight? Would he get some last jab in at the slave? Kuja had heard all sorts of stories about damaged property. 

But, nothing happened. He finally dozed off a few hours before dawn, and woke to the sound of some of the kitchen slaves laughing and shouting at each other as they made their way to the kitchens. He sat up in bed, rubbing at his face and eyeing the grey light of morning peaking around the edge of the door. This would be the last time he woke up like this, he thought, after four years of living in the service of the General. What would tomorrow bring? He had no way of knowing. He could only hope that it would not be worse. Kuja had spent far too long as a pampered pet to be able to handle rough living conditions.

He had only finished washing his face and braiding his hair when the General called for him.

“Kuja! Kuja, boy, where are you?”

He brushed off the front of his tunic and made his way through the atrium and its connecting corridor, and into the vestibulum. The entrance hall was occupied by the General and his secretary slave. Kuja did his best to pretend he did not notice the senator standing idly a few feet off to the side, nearly but not quite leaning on a column. He knelt in front of the General.

“You called, my lord? I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“Hmm, yes. Kuja, we will be parting ways today. I have sold you to Senator Lucius Caelius Ardyn.” The General half turned and gestured at Ardyn. The senator smoothly pushed away from the column and stepped to the General’s side.

“Good morning, Kuja. You may stand.”

“Sir.” Kuja righted himself.

“Go ahead and collect your things. We’ll be leaving, presently.”

He could not help a nervous glance between the General and the senator. “Right away, sir?”

“Yes. While I do enjoy the General’s company as much as the next man, I won’t take up any more of his time than necessary.” He waved his hand a little go-ahead gesture. Kuja nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ll have to come to dinner some time after your next return from Campania,” the General said as Kuja hurried back to his room.

Ardyn’s voice drifted after him. “Yes, of course.”

Kuja considered his small, sparse room upon his return. He did not have much that he could actually call his own, just a few things he had brought with him from Persia, and a few things he had been gifted by the General and other men in the last few years. He opened the chest by his bed and pulled out a small lacquered box. He had brought this from Persia, a gift from the Prince--his first owner--back on his tenth birthday. Inside he kept various hairpins and pieces of jewelry. Kuja added a few cosmetic items to the box before carefully close the clasp and bundling the box in several of his silken tunics. Finding nothing else that he wanted to take with him, Kuja returned to the vestibulum. 

The General had already left, likely gone off to his office. Ardyn was waiting, patient and serene. The senator smiled at Kuja’s approach.

“Is that all you have?”

Kuja clutched the bundle to his breast. “Yes, sir.”

Ardyn’s shoulders rolled in a shrug, and he turned to the exit. “Come along then, follow me.” He paused and looked over his shoulder. “Do you not have any shoes?”

“No, sir. I don’t usually leave the house, so I haven’t been given any.”

“Unfortunate. We’ll have to rectify that, then.” He beckoned. “Follow me, Kuja, and do try not to get lost.”

“Yes, sir, of course.”

 

Kuja followed the senator closely through the streets of Rome. It was still fairly early in the morning, but the streets were full of people. Ardyn stopped occasionally to greet someone, but at first said nothing else to Kuja. The young man thought as he kept at the taller man’s heels.

Eventually, as they reached a quieter side street, Kuja dared to speak up.

“May I ask you a question, sir?”

“Ardyn, and yes, you may. I had started to wonder if you’d gone mute.” He looked down at Kuja and smiled.

“Yesterday evening. Did you mean what you said to the General?” Kuja asked. “You know, about my looks?”

“What? No, of course not. You’re beautiful. I just had to say things like that to convince him to sell you to me.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I believe you, sir. But, I know full and well that looks are a fading thing. I should only hope that my face lasts me a few more years before failing me.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Ardyn said, his tone chastising. “You’ll bring a bad spirit after you.”

“My apologies, sir.” He touched the edge of the senator’s sleeve. “You aren’t going to make me work in the kitchen, are you? I don’t know anything about cooking.”

“No, that was just another ruse. Do not fret. I don’t even have any slaves here in Rome. Well, except for the one that comes to clean once a week. For food, there are a plenitude of meal counters near where I reside, so I usually just eat out. Or dine at the homes of others.”

“That’s all and well for you, but what about me?”

Ardyn paused and looked down at Kuja for a moment. Then he waved a hand and continued on, step unwavering. “We’ll figure that out. Stop worrying.” 

He lowered his gaze, keeping it fixed instead on the senator’s feet. “I’m sorry, sir. Ardyn. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

“You’re doing just fine, Kuja. I have to put up with people being overtly respectful all the time.”

“Yes, sir, but you’re a senator. Shouldn’t you be respected?”

He chuckled. “Perhaps.” He touched Kuja’s shoulder. “This way.”

“I’m afraid I’m not sure what use I’ll be to you,” Kuja said. “I don’t-”

“I wouldn’t have bought you from the General if I did not see some greater potential in you,” Ardyn said. “I try to avoid foolish investments.”

“I see.” Kuja lifted his gaze to look at the other man. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Nothing untoward. I am not that sort of man.” Ardyn tipped his head to the side and hummed softly. “I will be returning to Pompeii in a few days. Probably Moon or Mars, depending on the weather. I dislike riding the ferry when the weather is unpleasant. You will be going with me.”

“I won’t be staying in Rome?”

“No. You’re wasted here. Pompeii will be a much more captive audience.”

Kuja wasn’t sure what the senator meant by that, so he didn’t say anything.

“I have an estate in Pompeii. Well, my family does, they have many. I manage one in my father’s stead. There’s the usual menagerie of slaves, and they’re fairly well behaved. The foreman keeps them in line, but I have noticed them being a bit slack as of late since I’ve had to be in Rome more. Senatorial duties and the like.”

Kuja just nodded and made a soft noise of acknowledgement.

“So I am going to station you there, to be my presence when I am absent. Keep them on their toes. And to generally be another set of eyes for me in the city.”

“What will I do?”

“Whatever I tell you to.” He patted Kuja’s back. “Can you write Latin?”

“Only a few things,” Kuja said. “I can read it fairly well, though, as long as the words aren’t too complicated. We used to read Latin poetry at the palace. That was how I first started to learn the language.”

“Well, you will have time to work on expanding your capabilities. I will need you to write me letters, reports, to send to me back here in Rome when I have to be away for longer.”

“I can try.” Kuja found himself mimicking Ardyn’s peculiar head tilt. “Will I never see you, sir?”

“Certainly you will. The Senate isn’t always meeting. I do try to spend more of my time at home in Pompeii than here.”

“Oh. Alright.” Kuja puzzled over the words of the senator. “What will I be reporting on, in Pompeii?”

“This and that. Despite no longer being officially a member of the local government, I do like to continue to monitor local interests.”

“Meddling?” Kuja said in suggestion. Ardyn pressed a hand to his collarbone.

“Meddling? Why, my dear statue, I can’t believe you would suggest such a thing!” He winked at Kuja. “I like to think of it as making sure my investments don’t go to waste.”

“I see.” Kuja scratched at his arm. “You would really trust me on my own? You know, to not run off?”

Ardyn chuckled. “Even if you were to run off, I don’t imagine it would be that difficult to find a silver haired eunuch.”

“Fair enough.”

Kuja had to fight back his surprise when they reached Ardyn’s dwelling in the city.

“Don’t look so disappointed, my dear. This is just where I stay when I’m in Rome on business.”

Despite being wealthy and a senator, in Rome Ardyn lived in what amounted to little more than a small, undecorated two bedroom apartment. The front room served as a meeting area or office. There was a desk, covered in a jumble of scrolls and wax tablets and styluses and a few empty mugs. What looked like the long expanse of the fabric for a toga was folded and refolded and messily draped over the desk chair. There was a couch against the wall, half covered in more scrolls and an empty basket. Ardyn hummed as he lit the lamp in its wall sconce.

“How do you even manage to dress yourself?” Kuja wondered softly.

“Oh, don’t be silly, there’s a slave I hire to help me with my toga.”

“I see.”

The second room was the bedroom. There was a simple bed, a wash basin, and a large wooden chest. There was a discarded pile of underthings and red striped tunics in the corner

“The cleaning woman hasn’t been by this week,” Ardyn said, his tone cheerful.

“I wouldn’t have been able to guess,” Kuja said.

“Now then. I don’t really have a place for you to sleep, as you might have noticed. As I said before, I don’t usually haves slaves here in Rome. You can sleep on the couch in the main room until we leave for Pompeii.”

Kuja looked at the mess on the couch. “And in Pompeii?”

“You’ll be given your own quarters, of course.”

“Why such preferential treatment? I haven’t done anything to deserve it, yet.”

“Yet,” Ardyn echoed. “Do not worry, my dear, I have the utmost faith in you.” He leaned in close to the slave. “I saw it in your eyes, when we first met. Something great there, just waiting to be released. And I will be the one to release that something.”

Kuja swallowed. “If that is what you wish of me, my lord, then I will do my best.”

Ardyn’s smile was broad. “I know you will.”

 

\--End--


End file.
